


a multitude of sins

by ndnickerson



Category: Hardy Boys - Dixon, Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Multi, Post-Canon, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy poses as Frank's girlfriend for a cover, and Ned comes along to make sure things don't get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a multitude of sins

Nancy had two options: start talking to Ned, thereby breaking her cover, and endure what was probably going to be one of the worst fights they had ever had, or get blind staggering drunk to avoid dealing with it.

She was opting for vodka.

Frank had given her a convoluted explanation for why she needed to pose as his girlfriend, not that she'd really listened to any of it after he'd told her they would be spending a lot of time with all the members of the hottest band in the country. The lead singer's wife was eyeing Frank like he was an appetizer, and Nancy had gone through a hell of a lot of favors to get Ned into this party, only so that he could glower at her from across the room, his anger palpable.

Not that he didn't look great. Every time she glanced in his direction some other girl was chatting him up, and she had to admit, it sent a shiver up her spine whenever Ned brushed them off and went back to silently stalking her from across the room. Frank's arm wrapped possessively around her waist was giving her an entirely different kind of shiver. The more she drank, the more she wanted to give Ned a pointed stare, then run her tongue up the line of Frank's neck, with Ned watching, just so that he would finally explode. It sounded like a better idea with each passing moment, each sip of her martini.

"We need to get to the computer upstairs," Frank murmured as he smiled at someone across the room, and Nancy nodded, finishing the rest of her drink in one long awful swallow. Ned shifted his weight.

She could feel each of them, separately. Ned's concern and blooming jealousy were tight as fingers around her arm, and Frank's curious half-glances were cool, just a brush over her skin, with the promise of strength behind it.

_He needs to know I love him_, she thought, and when she couldn't figure out who she meant, she grabbed another drink as Frank unobtrusively piloted her out of the room and Ned followed like a malevolent bouncer with nothing but violence in his soul.

Away from the party and the noise and the women like bleached skeletal vultures, Nancy shook her head briskly to clear it, then nearly ricocheted off a wall before Frank grabbed her. "You okay?"

"Sure," she replied, aware she was slurring, and then broke down into quietly hysterical laughter, as Frank rolled his eyes. She forced herself to sober until her laughter had died to a few brief snuffles every now and then. They hadn't been able to rig the bar for water and ginger ale, and for once she was glad. She caught Frank's level appraising glance and put her hand on her hip, staring right back.

When the door swung open Nancy gasped and grabbed Frank, who was leaning over trying drawers on the desk. She pressed her mouth against his and he swung her so she was between him and the desk, and she had her hands buried in his hair when she heard a familiar cough behind them.

Ned was standing in the doorway, the blank expression on his face more frightening than his naked anger.

They broke apart, and the sound was loud, and Frank's hips were tight against hers. Nancy ran her fingers through her hair, sweat cold at the back of her neck.

"Didn't know it was you."

Nancy cringed at how lame it sounded coming out of Frank's mouth, even to her, even knowing it was true. Ned's lips were white.

"We don't have long."

To avoid looking at him, Nancy squeezed away from Frank and bent over the keyboard, shoving her hair out of her face and trying different password combinations, but her fingers were numb and the keyboard was blurry and she was too aware of Frank's breath to concentrate.

Nancy let herself fall backward into the executive chair, giggling uncontrollably when she knocked over a plastic case of paperclips, her voice harsh in the tension that still filled the room.

"Nancy," Frank hissed warningly.

"This is the best cover she could possibly have," Ned replied, and his dark eyes were unreadable.

After that, it wasn't that she blacked out, not entirely. She knew they didn't find anything. She saw the lead singer's wife approach Frank with a bald offer for sex and found herself answering with entirely genuine anger. She remembered the lavish buffet table and the small brownies with the mint design on them, and it was only later, much later, that she thought maybe it wasn't mint.

"If we stay here until everyone goes to sleep, we can try again," Frank told her, quietly, and Nancy nodded. Three bottles of champagne were going around, and a dusty black bottle with a square bottom that smelled like licorice and death. The smell of it was repugnant. The desire to taste it was irresistible.

"Ned doesn't have to stay."

Nancy looked up into Frank's face, and since they'd come back downstairs, he'd had more than a few himself. It was hard to avoid, even if she had wanted to. The expression on his face was clear.

"Maybe I should find us a room," she said, and tapped his nose, giggling.

"Maybe you should."

Frank wandered around asking a few casual questions, steering away from the shunned wife, while Nancy climbed the stairs and began looking for an empty room. On her second try Ned caught up with her, and Nancy, spotting a duffel bag, admitted defeat and headed to the next room.

"Hey."

"Hi," Nancy said somberly, opening another room. The five people and champagne bottle behind it ignored her. She studied the scene, eyes wide, for a moment, before Ned grabbed the doorknob and closed it.

"Frank said you two are staying here tonight?"

"He wanted to try and hack the computer again," Nancy said.

"Well, I'm staying here too."

Nancy blinked at him for a moment. "There's couches..."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I mean I'm staying in the same room as the two of you."

"But we're supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and you... aren't," she said, and glanced up at his eyes, and her brows drew together. "It won't... it won't look right."

"I don't give a fuck how it looks, I'm not letting you spend the night alone in the same room as him."

She pouted. "You don't trust me."

"I don't trust the two of you together."

After that, she had the impression that Ned had slammed her against a wall and kissed her until it hurt, but she wasn't entirely sure, and asking Ned seemed to be out of the question. She saw Ned with the dusty black bottle. She saw Frank drinking straight from the neck of a bottle of champagne. She had no idea what she was drinking, except that it tasted like water.

Then she woke up in one of the upstairs bedrooms, in the pitch black, with a man on either side of her in the bed. She was hot and uncomfortable, still wearing her tight jeans, and as she blinked up at the ceiling, her stomach rose.

She made it to the bathroom just in time, and when she stood up, after a few trembling minutes, she felt much, much better. She washed her mouth out with palm after palm of water from the tap, hastily brushed her teeth with some toothpaste she found, and went back into the bedroom, tugging off her jeans as she went. The two forms in the bed were still breathing peacefully, and as she crawled between them she realized she didn't remember getting into bed in the first place, and had no idea which was Frank and which was Ned.

But Frank was going to wake her when he went to check the computer, she remembered, so she curled up on her side, wincing a little at her sore belly and thinking that usually, when she was in this kind of situation, things didn't stay innocent for nearly this long.

She sighed. When this was over Ned was going to murder her slowly and she and Frank would go back to calling each other and sneaking around whenever they were close, and none of it would be solved. None of it would be finished. She couldn't help herself. And while Frank seemed to be perfectly content to chase her but never have her, Ned would never forgive her if she left him. They wouldn't be friends.

So this was the best thing, the best option. Sleeping between them. Never committing to one over the other.

She ran her hand lightly over the chest to her left, but found only hard muscle, no sign of who it was. The man on her other side made a soft noise in his sleep and threw his arm over her.

And it was then that she started thinking about it, vaguely, without putting it in words, only images; only the feel of a hip against the small of her back, only the soft dip of a shoulder under her breast. She squeezed her eyes shut and her thighs shut and her legs were bare, her panties thin, and her flesh was warm, beyond the warmth of the room and the alcohol.

No, she told herself, and sighed, nestling into a shoulder as she drifted off.

But she thought about it until she was wet, until every shift of her hip, every slight noise made by one of them, ignited on her every nerve. She rolled onto her back, but she couldn't get comfortable. Maybe if she just slept on the floor instead, that way they could keep an eye on each other and she'd stop thinking about how good it would feel to—

She rolled back onto her side with more savagery than she had intended, and when a hand came up and nestled in her hair, when a face bumped blindly into hers, she didn't question it. Ned's kisses were different from Frank's, but that, she realized belatedly, was because usually Frank was stealing seconds when Ned had all night. She ran her fingers along the line of the jaw, but that gave no clue either, and she brought her bent leg up, draping it over his waist, returning the kiss hard. She pulled back to bury her face against a muscular shoulder, waiting for the man underneath her to speak, to let her know who he was. When he didn't, Nancy trailed her fingers down his thin undershirt, over the front of his boxers, where she drew vague circles and listened to him pant. She smiled and pushed back, shifting to the middle of the bed, her blood dangerously loud in her ears.

Then a hand snaked over her waist from behind and the other man's fingers danced against her belly before sliding down into her panties. She arched, tilting her head back, as the fingers teased their way down between her legs, thumb squirming between her lips to find her clit as his index finger parted the slick flesh. The man in front of her kissed her again, facing her, biting her lip, as the man behind her slid three fingers up inside her quick as a breath and jerked her back toward him with his hand still buried in her cunt, until her ass was against the hard length of his cock.

Nancy moaned, rocking her hips lightly against one's fingers while the other slid his tongue into her mouth. She nipped him lightly, gasping as the fingers writhed inside her, hips thrusting gently against hers from behind. She reached back with one hand and smacked the one's bare hip, while she grabbed the waistband of the boxers in the one in front of her and yanked them down, tugging until he arched and they slid freely down his legs. She palmed the hard length of the cock in front of her with the same rhythm of the fingers inside her, and when he suddenly pulled them out of her she jerked her hips hard back against his cock. She heard the wet stroke of his hand as he slid the evidence of her arousal over his cock, and she closed her eyes, yanked her panties down and savagely kicked them off the bed, then wrapped her arms around the man in front of her, opened her legs, and tugged him toward her.

If they said anything, it would all be over; she knew that. She knew they were drunk, that with any luck she wouldn't remember any of it in the morning, that with any luck they wouldn't remember any of it in the morning. The man behind her cupped under her open legs and slicked his fingers inside her again, and then he was sliding one wet finger down the cleft of her ass, as the man in front of her angled his hips between her bent knees, holding her legs apart, his cock standing and ready but not yet touching her. He bit her nipple through her shirt and bra, gently, and then he was sliding his hand down to cup between her legs, and as he began to finger her, to tease her clit, she felt the other man's fingers gently begin to rim her ass.

She shuddered, a long full-body shudder, which seemed to encourage both of them. Just when she was sure the man behind her was Frank, the man in front of her seemed to caress her in some way particular to Ned; just when she thought Ned was kissing her, she was suddenly unsure. And she realized she didn't care, as she thrust her ass back, then palmed the cock of the man in front of her, angling it toward her. She kissed him again, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist, then arched, and as he buried his face against her still-covered breasts she twisted and kissed the man behind her, slowly, her hips jerking as he eased his fingers a little deeper into her ass. Three fingers curved between her legs and she gasped. She needed it. She needed it.

She ran her hand down the bare ass of the man behind her, then linked her hand around his wrist, and when she gently moved away and shoved the man in front of her onto his back, he obeyed without a sound. She straddled him and took his cock in her mouth as she led the other man's hand back to her ass, which he began to finger again, a little rougher than before. She gasped and the cock in her mouth jumped a little, and she took as much as she could, swirling her tongue at the tip, running one nail gently up the underside of his shaft. He groaned and she pushed herself up so she was standing on her knees, and took both their cocks in her hands, one wet with her saliva, the other with her arousal, and stroked them both, gently, then harder, then harder. She felt the man behind her, so close she could feel his breath against her neck, the warmth of his chest against her back, and she did a slow split until her legs were open wide and all she'd have to do was angle that one cock against her clit...

The man behind her thrust his hips against her ass and she pulled her hand away from him, focusing all her attention on the man she had almost mounted. Then he slid his arm around her from behind and forced her arms straight up, jerked her shirt over her head, and unhooked her bra, which he pulled off roughly, the elastic catching her hard nipples, making her moan with the pleasure of it.

The man under her hooked his hands under her thighs and dragged her toward him, toward his cock, as the man behind her fingered her ass again, his other hand cupping between her legs, and then she heard him wet his cock again.

They were going to do this. They were.

She pulled herself forward until the cock underneath her was positioned just right, and the man beneath her dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her down to him, his other hand sliding between her thighs again. Her clit was so sensitive that by his first brush over her she was almost shaking, and she felt the head of the other man's cock gently slide down the cleft of her ass, seeking her, her hips jerking gently with each stroke against her clit.

Then they were both fucking her and she spread her legs wide, leaning down so her breasts were brushing against the chest of the man under her, and it was too much; they were all moving against each other and then suddenly they were all still, and she held her breath. The one behind her was taking it slow, gently easing into her, and despite his attempts at lubrication it hurt anyway. She had only taken half the length of the one underneath her, her ass up in the air to provide the other man better access.

She pushed herself up on the heels of her hands, until she was angled between them, then slowly, deliberately, tightened her ass as she thrust her hips down, to sheathe the length and heat of him inside her, and when she relaxed the man behind her thrust again, again, and she gasped in the pain and the incredible satisfaction of it as she fucked the man underneath her.

With his hands unoccupied, the man behind her slid his arms around her and drew her toward him, cupping her breasts in his hands, and she could feel, could smell her sex on him. She shivered and he pinched her nipples, and she arched, shoving her hips down hard against the cock underneath her, just as he slid his thumb between her lips and found her clit.

"Yes," she gasped out, rocking her hips back and forward to fuck each of them, to drive each of them deeper in her as the man underneath her fingered her clit, flicking his nail against it, and the man behind her tugged her nipples, rolling them between his fingertips, squeezing her breasts hard against one particularly rough thrust into her ass. "Yes," she gasped as the man behind her pushed her down and angled her hips to fuck her harder, and at the counterpoint of each thrust she sank down again, driving his cock deep between her thighs, shaking when he teased her clit.

The man behind her pulled her up again, as though jealous that she was so far away, while the man under her dug his fingers into her ass, inadvertently giving the man behind her better access. "God," she moaned, and she could feel the brush of lips against the back of her neck, the barest whisper of someone saying her name.

She was lightheaded and they were relentless. It wasn't just about the size of their cocks or whether they could make her come; they thrust inside her and it felt like they wanted to break her in half, to ride her until she was trembling and broken, limp and spent. Then the man underneath her pushed up and she felt the other man's cock slide out of her ass, and she panted in relief, but then he was holding her up in the air, her legs dangling on other side of his hips, and gravity was holding her impaled on his cock. She threw her head back and screamed and then there were hands on her hips and he was fucking her in the ass again, and as the man's hips thrust up and up and up against her, the man behind her fucked her at the apex of each thrust, hard, demanding, until suddenly he stopped and she felt him pulse with his orgasm inside her, for just a moment, until she was jerked away again.

The man underneath her collapsed back to the bed and she bucked against him hard, her ass stinging. He pushed himself up while he was still inside her and bit her neck, and she planted her knees and fucked him back just as hard. He slapped her ass and, holding her tight to him, his cock still buried inside her, flipped her onto her back. She wrapped her legs around him and arched to meet his every thrust as he fucked her hard, with all the depth and force their angle had denied, and she whimpered until her voice was so high even she couldn't hear it anymore. They jarred forward with every thrust until her head was hanging off the foot of the bed, her mouth open as she panted.

She had distantly heard the sink in the other room, the prolonged sound of water. As her knees fell open she saw the bleed of light under the door, and then her other partner walked back into the room, watching the other man fuck her.

Then she saw his cock, just before he slid it into her mouth.

She almost gagged, expecting to taste something horrible and filthy, but he had been thorough, and only the faint bitter taste of soap was on her tongue. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, leaving her neck straight, feeling the head of his cock against the back of her mouth, and someone was pinching her nipples, and someone was running a nail against her clit.

Then the man on top of her was pumping his hips hard against her, thrusting his cock quick and rough inside her, as she arched her tongue around the other man's cock, and all three of them came together. She could taste him in her mouth as the other man's cock pulsed between her limp thighs, as she tightened against him, and her orgasm just didn't seem to end. She would feel a press against her incredibly sensitive clit again, feel a hard bite against her breast, and she would clench and shudder. The cock slid out of her mouth and she panted in relief, the smell of sweat and sex still sharp in her nostrils, and they lay spent, aching.

The last memory she had was of arms around her, then the pillow against her cheek, her every muscle sore.

When she woke in the morning she was under a sheet but still naked, and Ned was sitting beside her holding a mug of coffee, gazing down at her, his face unreadable. Nancy glanced over, but Frank was gone.

Ned handed her the mug.

"Where—"

He put his thumb over her lips and she closed her eyes, wondering if his was the hand that had teased her clit, or the one that had relaxed her enough for him to fuck her in the ass. "He's finished," Ned said, shrugging at the door, indicating that their mission here was over. He kept holding her gaze.

"And we are not going to talk about last night."

\--

They didn't talk about it. When Frank called her to thank her for her part in recovering the data, he didn't say anything about it. She would almost have believed that she dreamed the whole thing, save that she had ached in some incredibly awkward places for a few days after, and for a heart-stopping second she wondered if she had actually fucked Ned and some stranger.

"Guess I'll see you around, then," she told him, staring out the window.

"Guess so," Frank said, and then dropped his voice to a rough whisper. "Good night."

He hung up the phone and she was still holding the receiver to her ear, a warm shudder radiating between her thighs. Oh, he had been there.

And she couldn't stop thinking about it.

A few months later she called both of them and invited them to her house, without telling each other, because she had to clear the air. Whenever Ned looked at her, it was with an expression somewhere between fascination and disgust, and he wouldn't touch her without immediately jerking away. Frank had it easier, but besides that one teasing hint, he did not talk about it, not even when she made veiled allusions to that night.

Frank arrived first, and accepted the glass of wine Nancy gave him gratefully. He was sitting on her couch, looking ill at ease, when Nancy opened the door to Ned. The two men saw each other and Frank immediately leapt to his feet, and Ned's expression clouded.

"Nan—" he began angrily.

"No," Nancy ordered him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him fully inside so she could lock the door. The three of them looked at each other, and Frank looked like he was just as ready to bolt as Ned.

"Look," she said quietly, her back against the door. "I know we said we weren't going to talk about it, and that's fine. It happened. We were all drunk and... it happened. I may not remember all of that night, but that part, I don't think I'm going to forget very easily." She met Frank's eyes. "I love you," she told him, and she cut Ned's outburst off with a swift glance at him. "And I love you too," she said, her voice softer. "I don't think it's supposed to be like that, but it is. And you two don't know how much I had fantasized, how much I wanted that night to happen. It was... it was amazing. I get wet just thinking about it."

Then, making sure both their gazes were on her, she unbelted her robe and shrugged out of it, and it pooled behind her on the floor, leaving her naked. She didn't even have to glance over to know they were still staring at her as she walked over to the open wine bottle, grabbed it and two empty glasses, and walked very slowly, with every swing of her hips deliberate, to the door of her bedroom.

"So let's just leave the lights on this time."


End file.
